


You Always Have a Choice

by Flutterbye_5, HeartxOfxStone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dean gets hit a lot, First Kiss, M/M, Mind Control, Naomi's mean, Telepathic Bond, actual real life fan girl Sam Winchester, doppelgangers, emotional constipation what emotional constipation, my babies both really just need a hug, writing is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutterbye_5/pseuds/Flutterbye_5, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartxOfxStone/pseuds/HeartxOfxStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This particular version of Dean was on his knees completely battered and broken, and through split lips and broken skin he just barely rasped out,"Cas please."<br/>And it brings Castiel to his knees right in front of him and the dagger clatters to the floor next to them. </p><p>He sounds just like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Always Have a Choice

This particular version of Dean was on his knees completely battered and broken, and through split lips and broken skin he just barely rasped out, "Cas please." 

And it brings Castiel to his knees right in front of him and the dagger clatters to the floor next to them. 

_He sounds just like him,_ Cas would think, raising a hand to brush the hair from the beaten face of the man in front of him, whispering incomprehensible apologies with tears streaming down his face. But before he could make the such desired contact another angel kills him with such brutality leaving spatters of the illusions blood on his skin.

"It will be your turn soon," Naomi comments, coming up behind him to place a seemingly gentle touch to his shoulder. 

Cas shudders, wanting to dig his face in his hands and never look up, but he's stuck, frozen in place as blood, bit by bit inches outward, soaking the white marble of the floor, splattered against the sickly white walls like a child's splatter paint project. He can't say a word. He wants to say, "no," wants to scream it, throw the word in her face and hope it slaps her twice. 

436 proxy body formations later, Cas had become to weak to fight their wishes. He was faced with another "Dean" the same as all the rest. He slowly lowered himself to the ground becoming level with the void but seemingly full of emotion being in front of him. He stared into the eyes that replicated the human that made him feel, that gave him a sense of humanity. He saw the bravado of sorrow and pleading as he raised the hand brandishing his weapon. The beings did not speak anymore, they stopped speaking after the first 100 of Castiel's failures. 

He curled his left arm around the back of its head, elbow resting on a cold shoulder. Words of regret and distaste spewed from his lips as he pushed the blade up under the ribs, straight into the heart, feeling the body go slack against his own.

On number 1,246, Naomi said, "This time, make him suffer." 

Castiel nearly plunged his blade into his own stomach, just to escape this hell. Vaguely, Cas came to a strange conclusion. Torture in heaven was much worse than that of Hell, only due to the sole factor that on The Rack, they used what you hated to make you suffer and squirm. Here, in this white room with stark white walls and cold marble floors, they used what you loved. 

For the thousandth time, Castiel wishes that he was safely seated in Hell, right beside the demons of The Rack. He deserved no less for what he has done. And yet, never, no matter how much he wanted to make himself suffer for this, would he wish for this torture to continue. He didn't deserve Earth. But he didn't deserve this, either. 

He was an angel who believed he was to burn to pay for his deeds. His sins. 

He turned away from the wretched woman who dared to call herself an angel and looked at the current "Dean", feeling her presence disappear. Suffer, m-make Dean suffer. 

He struggled with the thought of doing such a thing. He gripped the back of the form's head, tilting it back with a strong grip in the short dirty blond hair. He was level with the body again and closing his eyes he leaned in to press his face into the man's neck. As he pulled away he brought the blade up to the proxy's throat and man a slow, deep cut along the jugular. 

Unable to look at the sight of the life slowly flowing out of "Dean's" eyes, he lowered the body flat on the ground, Cas over him, straddling his waist with his arms resting against his chest from wrist to elbow shaking from the silent sobs wracking through his body.

"You are an Angel of the Lord, Castiel," she scolded, coming to stand beside his shaking body. "Angels do not feel for humans. Or at all. Only love for our Father." 

There was scorn in her voice, explicitly clear disgust. Cas' body shivered and shook even more. 

_No,_ Castiel thought, _Father would never permit this. This was not His way. It couldn't be._

"Tell me this is what he wants. Tell me killing Dean Winchester is God's will. Tell me his termination is for the better of the human race, because I sure as all hell do not see it. Dean Winchester is a righteous man." 

The volume Cas spoke at was betrayed by the strength of his words. Mere whispers filled the room. Cas stood slowly, scanning the room, taking in the thousand plus bodies all resembling Dean. 

"If this is God's will. I will do nothing less than rebel."

"Then you will be broken and rebuilt, as is His will. The Righteous man is out of the plan. And you will make sure of it." 

This time, Naomi was not in the room. Her voice resonated in the room, slipping over the walls and Cas' skin. 

"This," he growled. "Is not His will. We have not seen Father since we were mere fledglings, so tell me, how would you,you of all other angels know of His will?"

Dean Winchester was reclined on another one of the infinite amounts of motel beds he had slept on, and he could feel it burning. The mark, the print, on his shoulder was tingling and the heat was unmistakable. His thoughts were trapped on Cas, he hadn't been around in a long while and that didn't sit right with him. He tried again, and had done so more than he could bear to admit, to call out to Cas. His words filled the deafening silence of the room, "Cas, where are you?" 

Castiel nearly cried out from shock. The quiet, yet deafening whisper of Dean's voice ran through him like water and molten metal. 

"Dean," he breathed, pausing in his movements to stab, yet again, another Dean. 

_Cas, where are you, man? What are you doing?_

As Castiel's heart clenched an infinite amount of miles away, the marked skin on Dean's shoulder tightened in sync. Letting out a near silent gasp, Dean raised his hand to the print, eyes shut tight, lightly grazing his fingers over the marred skin. 

Castiel could feel the phantom touch along the palm of his hand. He could almost feel the short exhale of breath Dean let out, _Hello Cas._

_Oh, Father, Dean,_ he gasped mentally, nearly sobbing in something akin to relief. He stood there, eyes closed, head bowed, one hand braced on the shoulder of a doppelgänger, the other clenching and releasing by his side, the blade he once held firmly on the ground. 

This was real. That voice was real. That was the little slice of reality that God, his Father, had gifted him. 

_Hey buddy, where've you been?_

Cas could picture the melancholy smile on Dean's face. 

_It's gotten lonely without you down here to stir the pot._

Castiel's senses were overwhelmed, it was too good to be true, it had to be.

 _H-hello Dean._

He could not stop even the voice in his head from trembling with emotion.

_Cas?_

This time the voice was not filled with amusement or annoyance or sadness. Now the only thing left was concern, pure worry for the angel. 

_I just- Dean,_ he practically cried. _Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean._

This is what happiness in Hell felt like. A single light, a slim ray of hope piercing through the darkness. 

_Cas, baby-_ "shit" Dean internalized his slight slip of the mind, _Are you okay?_

He struggled with staying calm, knowing Cas was so distraught. 

The small term of endearment that slipped through felt like a caress in Castiel's mind, and stopped his breath. Slowly things were piecing together in his mind, thinking of his hunter.

_I don't know._

The words sounded small, even in his own mind. A part of him wanted to say yes, to not worry Dean, while another wanted to say no, wanted to scream and cry and beg for Dean to help. But the part of him that acted was the part that didn't know what to say. 

_That's not an answer._

Cas could hear the weariness in Dean's voice, the quiet exasperation of having to pull information out slowly just so that he can learn enough to help. 

_No,_ Castiel wished he could explain it, to help Dean understand but he couldn't find the words that would explain it right. There was no way to tell Dean that the powers were trying to desensitize him into a state of being able to kill him in cold blood. _No I'm not._

_Cas, babe, where are you?_

Castiel desperately wanted to ignore the question. But he could never deny Dean. 

_Hell in Heaven,_ he murmured through their bond.

Dean snorted. 

_If only that were helpful,_ he snarked. 

_It's horrible Dean. They- they want me to kill you._ Castiel choked on a violent sob at the end of his thought, pressing closer to Dean in his mind, needing to feel even the slightest bit closer.

Dean felt Cas push himself mentally forward, felt the angel press himself closer to his consciousness. 

_Cas,_ he sighed mournfully, his mental voice filling with regret and pain so well like his voice normally would. _How can I help you? Where are you? Let me help let me do something._

 _I cannot stop the will of God, Dean. But I will try._ Cas had to pull away, Naomi would be back soon, _I must go._

Dean could feel the connection fracturing, _Dammit Cas! Come back you bastard!_

He couldn't imagine what they were doing to him up there, he didn't know if he wanted to.

Castiel brought himself back to the present and shoved his blade through the stomach of the doppelgänger. 

"How brutal of you," Naomi practically coos, coming up to place a hand on Cas' shoulder. "You're coming along delightfully."

Cas says nothing for a moment, "M'am."

And that was it. He turned back to the Dean replicant, desperately trying to pretend that it was someone, anyone else. 

One more. Cas had to kill one more. Naomi said he was ready but she "wants to watch one last time, to savor her success." His eyes were closed, but he could still feel the doppelgänger manifest in front of him. He brandished his dagger loosely in his left hand; it made for a more agile attack. 

Opening his eyes, avoiding the figure's own vibrant green ones, he swiftly moved forward and gripped the figure's hair pulling its head back. He raised the blade and slit its throat, blood spatter staining his own skin. He quickly spun the hilt of the blade over his knuckles and grasped it tightly against his palm, blade toward the ground. 

Dipping the figure much like a lover would in a slow dance, he brought the dagger down and buried it in the figure's chest, letting it fall to the floor with the momentum. 

Cas had to close his eyes. It was almost easy now, letting the blade sink into soft flesh and then releasing to let the body fall, but the knowledge, the awareness that this was supposed to be Dean, took away any possibilities to be desensitized to the act. Or the smell of blood. 

"You're ready." 

There was such intense pride in her voice that it made Cas sick.

"Pride is deadly," Cas deadpanned, eyes unfocused. 

He received no direct reply. 

\-----

He was sent back to Earth 4 minutes and 57 seconds ago and he had yet to move a muscle. Castiel's mind was running away on him, trying to think of a way to get out of this and have both him and Dean Winchester survive.

Cas sighed deeply, moving to the entrance of the warehouse. He could hear Dean pacing the inside urgently. 

Clenching his jaw, Cas entered. 

He couldn't even look at the look of joy on Dean's face before he came and backhanded the hunter with a dagger clutched in his fist. 

Castiel would not allow the weak sound of shock mixed with pain that escaped Dean to affect him. He moved over the Winchester's body and gripped the short hair much like he had thousands of times before, but yet it was so very different. He pulled up sharply, bringing Dean to his knees, the man still in a state of shock thus being so pliant. 

"Cas. Cas what are you doing? You said you would try to stop this. This, doesn't feel like stopping."

Castiel said nothing as he punched Dean's cheek, his hand fisted in the man's hair not allowing him to reel. 

"What the fu-" he was cut off by Cas' hand making contact with Dean's cheek again. 

_Cas._

The mental syllable made Castiel momentarily pause. 

_I'm sorry,_ he whispered in a quiet sigh. _I'm so sorry._

This was God's will, it had to be done. It was like a mantra running through Castiel's head, the only thing pushing him forward.

He refused to look Dean in the eye, knowing his resolve would fail him if he had to see the pain embedded in an emerald gaze for even a second. He struck again, catching Dean's nose and mouth on the swing this time. He could feel Dean's blood hit his face, and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Cas," Dean sighed painfully. "Cas, please." 

By then Dean was broken and bloody, and Cas' fist had split and mended countless times. 

"Cas. Cas, I need you. I-" Dean choked a bit. "I- I love you." 

Castiel froze, breath stuck in his throat. "No," he choked out. "You, you are not allowed to say that." 

He had his eyes clenched shut, the hand around the blade bore white knuckles. He thought he had steeled his emotions away from all possibilities of things that could leave Dean's mouth, but he was not expecting this at all. 

"You don't, you can't love me Dean. Not when you're supposed to die at my hand." 

"Who says, Cas? Who says? God? Fuck him. You haven't seen good ol' dad since you were fluttering around with stupid fucking downy wings and a diaper. Man the fuck up. Make your own choices." 

Castiel's hand trembled, the minute quake making the blade glint in the dim light of the warehouse. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"God help me."

He could hear Dean shifting, getting up, albeit slowly, but getting up to his feet. Castiel opened his eyes to be faced with the charged gaze that he had tried so hard to avoid. 

He was nearly knocked back by the emotion he found swirling in them. Dean's anger and confusion, his sorrows and worry, his pure adoration, were all laid out for Castiel to see and it make his heart stop. 

"Please," Cas moaned. "Please stop. Don't. Don't make me choose." 

Dean gave him a weary look. 

"Whether I tell you or not the option is always there. You always have a choice." 

Moaning deep in his chest Castiel let the blade drop on the cool floor. The clatter echoed throughout the room, resonating in the men's ears. 

Dean began to smile slowly, softly. 

"There we go," he sighed quietly, wiping the blood off his lips. "About time." 

This time it was Cas' turn to have his knees fail him. He hit the ground with a soft thud and Dean lowered himself down not long after. The hunter raised his hands slowly as if not to frighten Castiel. Even with those efforts, the angel still finched when Dean's fingers came in light contact with the stubbled skin of his jaw.

"I. Need. You. And I have a feeling you need me, too." 

A choked sob burst from Castiel's mouth. He nodded furiously. 

Dean let out a small huff of amusement and cringed slightly in pain. 

Breathing heavily Cas reached out and placed two gentle fingers to Dean's cheek. Dean flinched softly but still allowed the touch. Soon his face was whole and healed. 

Finally getting a good look at Dean, for the first time in longer than he wished it to be, the sight of a secret smile took his breath away. If he was to name what pure unadulterated happiness looked like, it would be the look that Dean had graced him with.

Cas ran his thumb down Dean's jaw line and across his bottom lip. He watched Dean's expression changed from elated to one of shock, as he leaned his forehead against the other man's, a rogue tear slipping down Castiel's face.

"I love you, too," Cas smiled warmly, leaning closer to nuzzle Dean's nose. 

Laughing lightly, Dean leaned in further and placed a soft kiss on Cas' lips. 

"I did say that, didn't I?" 

"Mmm," Cas hummed happily. 

"Remember that you always have a choice," Dean sighed against Cas' lips. 

Castiel nodded firmly, leaning in to kiss him again. 

The kiss was slow, and full of emotion that words would never do justice. Cas hesitantly moved his hands down Dean's body, resting them under the man's shirt on his hips, stroking a thumb back and forth. Dean ran the tip of his tongue along Cas' lower lip, asking for entrance, which Cas reacted to without question.

Of all the human things Dean had taught him since the day they had met, without a doubt in his mind this was his favorite. The feel of Dean warm under his fingers, the taste of him on his tongue, it was like nothing else he had ever experienced.  
Sam burst in moments later, moving to call out for his brother, but paused mid-step to absorb the sight of his brother and Cas on the floor, practically tangled in each other. He huffed a sigh. 

"Finally!" he exclaimed, exasperated. 

Dean blushed furiously, pulling away. Cas just smiled and shook his head. 

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Cas. How are you?" 

Castiel's smile widened. 

"Wonderful, Sam. Absolutely wonderful."

**Author's Note:**

> A majority of the italics are in place to represent the telepathic communication between Dean and Cas.


End file.
